The Chain
by witchesandwolves
Summary: Misty Day is haunted by strange and terrible dreams. Can she and Cordelia discover their meaning before it's too late? A Foxxay story. The sequel to Aftermath.
1. Chapter 1

Every night it was the same dream. And Misty Day was not fool enough to believe her dreams were only dreams. Sometimes, on nights like this when the moon was full, Misty liked to go for walks through the city alone. It helped her to think. And it stopped her feeling like the walls of the Academy were closing in on her. Many young witches had come to the school, her home, to learn the ways of witchcraft. They had brought with them so much noise and energy. All that magical power reverberating off the walls, it was just too much sometimes.

Tonight Misty decided she would take a long walk through New Orleans and clear her head. She needed to figure out what her dream could mean. At home, her best friend, her lover and her Supreme, Cordelia, was sound asleep in their grand old four poster bed. Part of her wanted to turn back and crawl into bed beside her warm body, but she knew she had to figure this dream out. It had been gnawing at her insides all day long.

Misty walked down streets filled with traffic and people. It was Friday night and the city was buzzing with life. She walked past a bar. A neon sign over the door read "Live Jazz". Its light shone on her mess of blonde curls, turning them blue and red. The smell of bourbon and the sound of jazz music filled the air. A rowdy group of men emerged from the bar and pushed past her, laughing and talking loudly. She did not pay them any mind. She knew she had enough magic burning inside her to instantly kill all of them. She walked on in her favourite boots, past hot dog vendors and groups of friends laughing and talking. American flags hung from buildings and waved listlessly in the light of old fashioned street lamps. Cars cruised past.

Misty had no particular destination in mind. But she was not surprised when she looked up from the pavement and saw the entrance to a cemetery. She always seemed to end up here. Tombs stood in endless rows, their white bricks shining in the ethereal moonlight. Misty walked towards them.

In this cemetery, surrounded by the remains of the dead, she had once lost her own life. She would never forget being underground, buried alive in that awful coffin. Alone in the dark with only the sound of her own voice for company, she had begun to sing. The songs of Stevie Nicks had stopped her from losing her mind. And when her throat had been so torn and bloody that she could no longer sing them, she had clung tight to the belief that Cordelia would find her. Cordelia was so very powerful. And she would not give up on her. She would not forget her. Even as she drew her last breath, it had given her comfort to know that she was loved by someone that much.

Cordelia had found her eventually, but by then it had been too late.

She didn't remember anything from that in between time, when her soul had drifted away from her body. She only remembered waking up scared and confused and then seeing Cordelia's face and knowing she was loved. She remembered how grateful she had been, how happy she had felt to see Cordelia in that moment. As she walked among the crypts she felt a pain in her chest and ached to be with her lover. She pulled her shawl tighter around her body and shivered, looking over her shoulder. But she did not leave. She had come out here tonight for a reason, and she was going to stay here until she figured things out.

Stone crypts stood solemn and silent on either side as she walked down the long straight path between them. She only had moonlight to guide her and her path disappeared into the dark distance ahead. Stone angels gazed down upon her, attending to their silent vigil. Gravel crunched underfoot.

Misty found the tomb where she had once been trapped. She stopped and stared at it for a moment, then sat down in front of it. The ground was cold and hard. Gravel scratched the back of her legs. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the cold stone of the tomb wall. She tried to think. Despite the cold air and the hard ground, despite her troubled mind, Misty soon fell asleep.

_Misty was walking down a dark hallway. The walls were made of dark, grim brick. The hall had the faint odour of damp and rot. It was lined with doors made of metal. Each had a small square hole at eye height for viewing the room beyond. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her head hurt. Her heart thumped in her chest. She was looking for someone. She had something very important to tell them. _

_She finally arrived at her destination. Although this door looked the same as the others, she knew it was the right one. The person she was looking for was inside this room. Misty could feel something else beyond the doorway, something malignant and vile, something cruel and darkly pulsing. She did not want to open that door. She willed herself not to open it. But there was nothing she could do, she was not in control._

_She watched her own hand helplessly as it pushed the door open. She walked inside. The air smelt of sick and sweat. There was a metal bed in the middle of the room. A man was tied to it with leather straps. He strained against them, the veins in his neck and head bulged. His skin was unnaturally white. Misty thought he looked like a living corpse. His eyes were those of a wild animal caught in a trap. They were bloodshot and bulging and they rolled to and fro in his head. Then they landed on Misty. They stared straight into her soul. _

"_No!" Misty screamed, but her lips did not make a sound._

_A crowd of people were gathered around the bed. She wanted to ask them to help her. She wanted to tell them to escape this room. But she could not speak. She could not run. She was staring into the face of evil and evil was staring back._

_She screamed._

Misty's eyes flew open. Her scream was given full voice. She saw Cordelia. Her face was full of concern. The early morning sun had turned her hair the most beautiful shade of golden blonde. She felt Cordelia's hands grasping her arms. That stopped her screaming. She began to breathe heavily, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide and her face was drained of colour. She was covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Sweetheart!" Cordelia said, "Sweetheart, it was just a dream."

Cordelia's eyes were filled with worry. Misty threw her arms around Cordelia and Cordelia hugged her close. She stroked Misty's wild hair.

"It's okay," Cordelia said, "Everything will be all right."

Misty held Cordelia tight. How could she begin to tell her the truth? How could she explain? Nothing was all right. Something was very, very wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunrise spilt over the horizon. It bled its colours into the sky, streaking the clouds with oranges, yellows and pinks. Morning's soft light fell on the two witches, solitary figures, surrounded by silent stone. Misty rubbed her eyes and looked around. She hadn't seen the graveyard in the daytime since the day Cordelia had saved her. This city of the dead looked different in the warm light of day. The tombs looked naked without the veil of soft moonlight upon them. Without the cover of darkness, the houses of the dead seemed overwhelming in number. Misty felt as if she were surrounded by ghosts.

She ached all over. Her back hurt a lot. She didn't want to sit here anymore, but she didn't relish the thought of moving either. Cordelia stood up and offered Misty her hand. She was wearing sunglasses and a black dress trimmed with lace at the neckline. She could easily be attending a funeral here today. Her blonde hair shone like a halo. Misty thought she looked like an angel come to earth to comfort the souls of the wandering dead.

Misty took Cordelia's hand and stood up. Her back flared with pain and she grimaced. Cordelia frowned.

"Are you okay?" Cordelia said. "I woke up and you weren't there."

"How did you know where to find me?" Misty said.

"Give me some credit," Cordelia smiled, "I am the Supreme after all."

Misty gave her a half hearted smile. Cordelia squeezed her hand.

"Let's get you home," she said.

Misty shook her head. Her curls flew. She grabbed Cordelia by the upper arms.

"I need to talk to you first," said Misty. "It's real important Delia."

Cordelia took hold of Misty's arms, lowering them gently. Then she took Misty's hands in her own. She smiled and gently kissed her forehead.

"Come on," she said.

Cordelia led Misty by the hand through the cemetery. They stopped at a weathered old tomb, carved into the shape of a coffin. Its mottled grey stone was cracked and chipped. Any engravings had been long worn away. They sat down together upon it. Cordelia took off her sunglasses and put them in her bag. She gazed attentively into Misty's eyes and waited for her to begin.

Misty stared at her boots.

"I didn't want to bother you with this," she began.

"Sweetheart we've spoken about this!" Cordelia said.

"I know, I know," said Misty, "but you were so busy. And I really thought I could handle it on my own."

She looked into Cordelia's dark eyes.

"But I can't," she said, "I need your help."

"Of course," said Cordelia, smiling, "I've got a potion that helps with restful sleep back at the green house."

"That won't help," Misty said.

She ran a hand through her wild blonde curls.

"I don't think it's a dream," she said. "It's a vision. Like the ones you have."

"Oh," said Cordelia.

Cordelia tucked her hair behind her ears. She rubbed Misty's back gently.

"If that's the case," she said. "We can figure it out together. Now, describe your vision to me."

Misty took a deep breath and began. She told Cordelia about the long dark hall, the feeling of foreboding, and the urgent need to find someone. She told her about the room. And the terrible thing inside it.

"Did you recognise anyone in the vision?" Cordelia asked.

"Only myself," Misty said, turning one of her rings round and round on her finger.

Cordelia's head cocked slightly to the side.

"Yourself?" she asked.

Misty nodded.

"I wasn't in control of my body," Misty said. "But it was definitely me walking down that hallway. I was there in that room."

Cordelia put her hand on Misty's shoulder.

"Misty, visions can be confusing," she said.

Misty shrugged her hand away.

"Look, I know what I saw," she said. "I know what my own hands look like!"

She stood up and began to pace back and forth.

"I don't remember visiting that place before. I don't remember those people. So it must be a vision of the future, right?"

She stopped and looked to Cordelia for confirmation. Cordelia was rubbing her hands together.

"It's possible," she said.

"Possible?" Misty threw her arms in the air, then let them fall to her sides with a defeated slap. She let out a frustrated breath and began pacing again.

"I have to know for sure," Misty said. "The evil in that room, it was so powerful."

Cordelia stood up and walked into Misty's path. Misty was staring so hard at her boots that she walked straight into her and fell forward. Cordelia grabbed her by the waist and steadied her. Then she kissed her.

Misty closed her eyes and kissed her back, pulling her closer. She took Cordelia's face in her hands. She ran her fingers through her hair. She let Cordelia's body bring her comfort.

Finally they stood, foreheads touching, breathing heavy.

"When will you understand?" said Cordelia. "Nothing can harm you. I won't allow it."

Misty smiled.

"Now come back to the house," Cordelia said. "I think I have a spell that can help you."


	3. Chapter 3

Misty had never felt the same way about the Academy's library as Cordelia. Cordelia loved it there. She would spend hours immersed in spellbooks and texts, writing in notebooks and frowning at her laptop screen late into the night. Misty had tried to join her several times, but her efforts had never lasted long. Misty craved music and dancing and the feeling of dirt in her hands and grass under her feet. The quiet library with its dust filled air and endless rows of boring texts held no appeal to her. Without saying a word, the pair had come to an understanding, that Cordelia's library time was her alone time.

Today was different. The two women walked into the library together. Cordelia lead the way with her long confident stride. A handful of students were inside, hunched over books and computers. One of them looked up from her book and smiled. Misty quickly waved at her and then hurried after Cordelia.

She followed the Supreme down a long aisle lined with texts, their spines cracked and threadbare, all shades of faded and mute colours. They smelt awful to Misty, like an old attic shut up and forgotten. At the end of the aisle, at the very back of the library, was a tall bookshelf made of dark oak. Misty thought about the very beautiful tree that must have died to make it. She didn't say anything to Cordelia. She had learnt by now that on some matters they would never see eye to eye.

The book shelf had two doors inset with glass. Behind the glass Misty could see some very old, very heavy looking tomes. The doors each had a brass ring handle. Underneath each handle was a small lock.

Cordelia pulled a fine gold necklace up and over her head. Misty knew this necklace well, because Cordelia never took it off. Hanging on the chain were three tiny, ornate keys, one brass, one gold and one silver. Cordelia used the brass coloured key to unlock the doors of the book shelf.

She ran one long index finger along the spines of the books, quickly finding the one she was looking for and identifying it with a quick double tap of her finger. She pulled it from the shelf carefully and lugged it to a nearby desk, setting it down with a loud thunk. The women sat down at the desk together and Cordelia began to flip expertly through the pages.

Misty watched the familiar way Cordelia handled the thin yellowed pages of the old book. She realised Cordelia had known exactly which book held the spell they needed and exactly where to find it. Cordelia really had read every book in this library. Misty couldn't imagine doing that in a thousand lifetimes.

"Here," said Cordelia, tapping a page and then sliding the book closer to Misty.

Misty stared at Cordelia's perfect hands as they moved the book towards her. The long delicate fingers and the perfect white skin. She mentally roused herself and read the title of the page. It was written in Latin.

"Somniatis Imperium," Misty read.

Misty threw a questioning glance at Cordelia.

"Sleep Control," Cordelia said.

Underneath the title was a woodcut illustration of a woman. She was lying on the ground, eyes closed, with her arms crossed over her chest. Floating above the woman was another version of herself, standing up and wide awake, arms stretched to the sky. Seething around this dream woman were winged demons and horned beasts. There was a description underneath the illustration. Cordelia ran her finger underneath the lines of text, nodding and talking quietly to herself as she read them.

"This spell will allow you to be in control of your actions while you're sleeping," Cordelia said.

"I should have everything we need," she continued. "And our magic is powerful enough. There shouldn't be a problem."

Misty took Cordelia's hand. Cordelia stopped examining the spellbook and looked up at her.

"What is it sweetheart?" she asked.

"For the spell to work, I have to go to sleep?" Misty asked.

Cordelia nodded.

"It's just..." Misty said.

"What's wrong?" Cordelia said.

"I'll come back this time, won't I Delia?"

In an instant Cordelia's face collapsed, her expression transforming from confused to devastated.

"Oh Misty!" Cordelia said.

She took Misty's face in her hands for a moment. And then she pulled her close and hugged her tight.

"You don't have to do this," Cordelia said softly in her ear, "Let's just forget about it, okay?"

Misty slowly pulled away from Cordelia, shaking her head.

"You're wrong," she said, "I do have to do this."

Cordelia stroked Misty's face with the back of her hand.

"Then let's get it over and done with," she said. "Tonight. Midnight will be best."

Cordelia gave Misty a little smile and began to play with the tips of her blonde curls.

"It will be easy," Cordelia said. "Just find the name of this place, the names of the people in it, anything we can use to identify where you are and when this is happening."

Misty nodded. It all sounded so simple. But so had the Seven Wonders once. She was wiser now but she had no choice. The danger was too great, not just to herself, but to Cordelia and the coven. The evil in her vision, she had felt it, and it had felt her too. It had looked right at her. It was only a matter of time before it hunted her down.

The following hours passed slowly for Misty. It was Saturday afternoon and there were no classes. Most of the girls were out and about in New Orleans and the old house was sleepy and quiet. While Cordelia busied herself with preparations and errands, Misty stayed in the green house, watering the plants, listening to music and thinking about what the night could bring.

Finally, the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Misty forced herself to eat a little dinner in the kitchen, some fruit and bread with honey. Then she climbed the stairs to her bedroom to wait for midnight to come. When Cordelia came to check on her she was lying on their bed, staring at the ceiling, quietly singing to herself.

Cordelia sat down beside her on the edge of the bed.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Misty looked into Cordelia's eyes. She saw only love. And it made her feel less afraid.

"Yes," she said.

Cordelia led Misty by the hand to the middle of the room, where she had everything she needed for the spell neatly laid out on the carpet. She took up a pouch full of salt and began to pour it onto the floor, making a circle around them both. She kissed Misty softly on the lips.

"Now relax and lie down," she said.

Misty did as she was told. She lay on her back on the soft carpet and looked up at Cordelia. She tried to lock the vision of her face in her mind. Tried to memorise the darkness of her eyes, the incandescence of her skin, the fullness of her lips. She hoped to use the memory of that perfect face to find her way back again. Then she closed her eyes.

She heard Cordelia speaking softly in Latin. She had time to think how sweet her voice sounded, and then she was gone.

_Misty opened her eyes and everything had changed. She took in a sharp breath of cold night air. She was on a dirt path, surrounded by trees, but they did not give her comfort. These woods were not friendly. Misty knew straight away they concealed something foul, something evil. She felt it lurking there in the darkness, just beyond her vision. It was not safe here. _

_She looked down at herself. She was dressed completely in black. A cross hung around her neck. In her hand she gripped something metal and cold. A bucket. She lifted it up and looked inside. The smell hit her. Inside were bloody gizzards and wet guts. She dropped the bucket in shock. It hit the ground with a clank and rattle, splattering its contents everywhere. _

_She heard a distant growl._

_She told herself to run, and this time her dream body listened. She bolted down the path, her feet slamming on the ground, her heart pumping. Her clothes were restrictive and they slowed her down. What was she wearing? Finally, she burst into a clearing beyond the trees and collapsed onto the grass. Breathing heavily, her heart still pumping, she looked up. _

_Looming over her, tall and ominous in the darkness, was a massive brick building. She knew she needed to get inside, to get away from the creature in the woods, but every instinct in her told her to turn back. This place was wicked to the core. Evil festered inside it like a sick, black heart. _

_She took a deep breath and rubbed her face with her cold hands. She had to focus. She was here for a reason. And that reason was to discover more about the evil within this wretched place that towered above her. She made herself stand up and then set off at a jog to find the entrance. _

_When she came to the building's wall she reached out with both hands and touched its rough red bricks. She looked behind her. There was no sign of the creature in the woods. Maybe it was afraid of the light shining from the windows? Maybe it was just afraid of this place? She could understand that well enough. _

_She jogged along the perimeter, running the palm of her left hand along the wall. Turning a corner, she saw a large white staircase leading to an arched entranceway. A way in! Would it be locked? She headed towards it, casting her eyes about for something, anything, that would give her a name for this place. There was nothing._

_She began to climb the stairs. She had to lift her long dress so she wouldn't trip. Before she had reached the top the giant double doors swung open. A man walked out holding a torch in his hand. He shone the torch on her and she held up her arm to shield her eyes. _

"_Sister?" he said, "Are you alright?"_

_He lowered the torch and walked towards her, reaching out a hand to help her up the last step. He was dressed like a security guard, maybe a prison guard. He had kind eyes. He took her by the arm and began to guide her to the door._

"_You don't look too good Sister," he said. "Let's get you inside and I'll go fetch Sister Jude"_

"_Sister Jude?" asked Misty. "Who is she? Where am I?"_

"_Why Sister, don't you know?" asked the guard. "You're at home. You're at Briarcliff." _


End file.
